


Drunk in Love

by LittlebutFiery



Series: Fictober 2018 [6]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Anniversary, Established Relationship, F/M, Fictober 2018, Fluff, Yet again a rating primarily for language, alcohol use/mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 12:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16241414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: While out with friends, Jean remembers a little something (or rather, someone) he shouldn't have forgotten.Fictober Day 8: "I know you do."





	Drunk in Love

“Cheers!”

Jean took a drink, laughing with his friends, before Smith nudged him and said, “Hey, Havoc, you haven’t made a toast yet. Go on!”

Jean swayed from his friend’s bump, nearly dropping his pint glass. “Nah, it’s okay. It ain’t my birthday, it’s yours.”

“Oh, come on, chicken!” Smith taunted, elbowing him again.

He swirled the amber liquid around his glass before saying, “Alright, fine, boys.”

“Here’s to Rebecca Catalina, the greatest girl in the world!” Jean finally said, raising his glass. He was faintly aware of his friends snorting and laughing as they clinked their glasses together, but his mind was already elsewhere.

Oh, shit.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, shit.

“Wait, fuck, shit!” Jean cried, knocking over several glasses as he leaped to extricate himself from the booth.

“What the fuck, Havoc?” Peters yelled as Jean fell over him, sending another glass to the floor.

“Today’s my anniversary with Becca! I completely forgot!” Jean wailed, finally freeing himself and scrambling to his feet. “I’ve gotta get her something!”

“Man, you’re fucked,” Reed whistled. “Good luck, man.”

Jean bolted out of the bar, desperately hoping he could find an open store at this hour.   
  


“Becca!”

She nearly fell out of bed at the desperate howl from her front door, followed by deafening banging. “Becca,  _ please _ , open up!”

Was that...Jean?

Well, better late than never.

Rebecca pulled on her worn bathrobe and slippers, shuffling to the front door as the pounding and yelling picked back up.

Jean nearly fell onto Rebecca as she yanked the door open. He threw his arms around her, crying, “Becca!”

“Come in, before you wake my neighbors up,” Rebecca scowled, pushing the door open the rest of the way so they could awkwardly shuffle into her apartment, Jean’s arms still locked around her.

“Becca, I’m so sorry!” Jean wailed.

She sighed, relaxing a little into his overenthusiastic embrace. Jean was a fucking idiot, after all, but he was  _ her _ idiot.

Then the overpowering smell of alcohol hit her like a truck, making her cough. She shoved him away, hissing, “Jean, are you...drunk? Is  _ that _ what you were doing out so late? I’ve been worried sick, you were supposed to call me when you got home, and you’ve been out  _ drinking? _ ”

Jean’s lip trembled. “Becca, I’m sorry...I...I-I’m the worst and I’m so fucking sorry…”

“Can you  _ please _ say something else? Anything?” Rebecca snapped. “Saying it a shitload of times doesn’t make it more convincing.”

“But…” Jean tried. He stopped when Rebecca frowned dangerously. “I...forgot our anniversary. It was Smith’s birthday, so the guys asked me to go out with them, and I...I said okay. I didn’t even think. Like a fucking idiot.”

“Well, we’re in agreement there,” Rebecca growled.

“I...know we were supposed to do dinner. A-and dancing...and you wanted to go to that new ice cream place. And now it’s too late and all of that’s closed and I’m drunk and you’re in your pajamas,” Jean went on.

“Astute observations,” Rebecca snapped.

“And I’m sorry,” Jean said again. “It’s been two years, and I was going to make this a really special night for you, and...I didn’t. I just ruined it. Again.”

Despite her anger, the obvious guilt on Jean’s face softened Rebecca’s heart just a little. Jean sighed and continued, “I love you, Bec. I know this isn’t really great evidence or anything, but...I really do. I love you so much.”

He held up the items in his hands, things Rebecca hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. In one hand, a wilted rose; in the other, a very battered and dented box.

Jean looked down at his meager offerings and sighed again. “I know, I suck. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t have a lot of money left when I left the bar...and this was all I could get you. I’m sorry.”

Becca accepted the gifts. The rose was indeed rather weak and wilted, but she’d never seen a rose in such a vibrant shade of pink - her favorite color. The box was in a similarly poor condition, squashed and mangled, but she could still make out the brand name, that of her favorite candy company. It was a red box, meaning it contained chocolate-covered strawberries - again, her favorite.

She smiled. Perhaps the gesture was late, perhaps it was extremely rough around the edges, but...it was heartfelt. Jean was so drunk he was swaying where he stood, but he’d remembered her favorite color and her favorite chocolates. He’d left his friends as soon as he’d realized his mistake.

He wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. Maybe she could cut him a little bit of slack. After all, they  _ had _ planned on ending their evening with some alone time, and here they both were, alone.

Jean seemed to take her contemplative silence another way, managing, “I’m so sorry, Becca. I really, really am. I...I love you. So much.”

Rebecca smiled up at him, holding the flower and box close to her chest. “I know you do. I love you too.”

Relief washed over Jean, his entire body visibly relaxing. “Am...I...kind of forgiven?”

“No,” Rebecca shook her head, and Jean instantly went pale. She smiled again and added, “Not yet. I didn’t get my dinner, or my dancing, or my ice cream. But I at least want my cuddles.”

“That’s the least I can do, princess,” Jean grinned back. “I’m gonna give you the best goddamn cuddles you ever had.”

Rebecca laughed as she turned to head back to her room. “I love you, even if you’re a dummy.”

Jean chuckled. “I know you do.”


End file.
